Noah (18 page)

"I like the idea, though." He nudged me with his shoulder. "I'd like to go somewhere that meant something to them next year."

I smiled and nodded with a dip of my chin. "Me, too."

It was finally our turn, and I paid for us before we were let in some narrow-as-hell spiral staircase. Jesus fuck, I could barely fit. A few inches narrower and it would be the same width as my shoulders. Everything was made of stone, and running was out of the question.

"You go first." I pressed myself against the wall so he could pass, which he did with a quizzical look. I smirked and shrugged. "I wanna enjoy the view." There weren't many windows, after all.

A claustrophobic person would freak.

"Casanova," he muttered.

I laughed, and it echoed. "Only for you, baby."

There. I had officially started giving him truths.

He didn't reply, but every now and then, he glanced back at me. I could see his mind was spinning.

As it turned out, climbing up to the dome of Sacré Coeur was a fucking slow process. The people in front of us evidently didn't exercise very often, and there was no place to stop. In fact, it got narrower and narrower the higher we got.

The last leg of the race, even I was getting winded, and it was nearly impossible to fit. Low ceiling, bad air, uneven steps, and everyone was exhausted. But we made it, and when we stepped outside and got the first glimpse of the view, I understood why tourists flooded the church.

I grinned, strangely happy despite the date.

The sun peered through the clouds as we entered the lookout area that surrounded the dome. An all-stone balcony embedded in the building gave us a 360-degree view of the city, and Julian's eyes lit up.

It was breathtaking, no lie. Both him and Paris.

As he snapped off a few photos with his phone, I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle. He only froze for a second, maybe getting used to my wanting to be close. Fuck, always close. I craved it.

We could see for miles, yet it was him I had my eyes on.

I recalled the day of the memorial service. He'd stepped out of the car a hot mess. Stricken by grief and despair. He'd been my nephew then, sort of. And if someone had told me I'd one day look at him and believe he had the most beautiful soul and was the sexiest person I'd ever seen…? I would have thought that person was high or off his goddamn rocker.

I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "You make me happy, Julian."

"Um." He chuckled awkwardly. "I can feel that."

I smirked. Maybe I was sporting a semi. Not my fault.

"Not the happy I was talking about." I trailed more kisses along his neck and hairline.

He blew out a breath and turned around in my arms. Uncertainty was written all over him.

"Why are you telling me this, Noah?"

I brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. "'Cause I want you to know." It angered me now, that I hadn't been more open to him before. He deserved it.

"I, uh…" He stumbled over his words, heat rising to his cheeks. "I think we're supposed to be able to see the Eiffel Tower from the other side."

I quirked half a smile and took a step back. The last thing I wanted was to freak him out, and he was clearly not ready to talk. I'd give it some time. An hour was good, right?

I was ready for any outcome, be it rejection or reciprocation. I could admit I felt it was leaning toward rejection from him, but I needed to know, regardless. Otherwise, there'd be no moving forward.

We did get to see the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the dome, and I even got a tourist to take a photo of Julian and me together. I grinned and kissed his temple, and he was smiling and blushing and trying to look composed all at once. With the stunning view of Paris in the background, it became my new screensaver on my phone.

Julian gave me another quizzical look for that.

Eventually, we began the trek down again. Knowing we were about to go into the church turned me in that masochist, and a blanket of melancholy covered me. In moments like these, I would've given anything to have my sister back. She'd been good at helping me decipher the shit tumbling around in my head.

There wasn’t all that much left to decipher, though. It was just…messy.

The staircase that led down was as narrow and stifling as the one that we'd climbed, but going down was easier than up, and it didn't take nearly as long to reach the bottom again. Once there, we didn't say much. Julian lit up a cigarette, and I didn't comment.

It wasn't the time.

"I'll head in, okay?" I put my hands down in my pockets, and after his nod, I went inside the church. Despite the crowds of tourists, and despite having no real attachment to religion, it moved you. It was quiet and peaceful, candles lit everywhere, and worshipers filling the pews with their heads bowed.

No shit, my ma had shed a tear or two in here. She'd always been emotional.

My chest felt heavier.

I lit one of those damn candles, dropped a few Euros in a box, and then found an empty pew near the back.

Thoughts and emotions swam inside me, and I didn't know where to start. It was stupid. Did I speak to my folks? They couldn’t fucking hear me.

Julian passed me, picking a pew closer to the altar.

I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face, having no goddamn clue what to do here. I guessed I'd thought it would come naturally. I'd think back on some shit, tell my folks I missed them, and then be done.

An old lady behind me said something in Italian, but I got the feeling she was talking to me, so I looked over my shoulder and told her I didn't understand. One of the two phrases I knew in Italian, the other being a request for more beer.

She laughed softly, her eyes showing a youth her body didn’t anymore. "Ah…
come se dice
…you, ah, tense?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I admitted with a wry smirk. It fell pretty fast, though. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't really pray."

No need to tell her I didn't believe in God.

"You let…" At a loss for words, she patted her chest—or heart. "It speaks. Someone will listen." She nodded firmly. "You…too young and handsome to be troubled.
Sí
?"

I chuckled quietly. "Maybe.
Sí, grazie
." Someone would listen, eh?

She gave me another nod before she clasped her rosary beads and bowed her head to pray.

Rather than mirroring her move, I faced forward again and gazed up at the mural in the apse above the altar.

Someone will listen.

My gaze fell to my lap, and I frowned. Maybe the listener was me. Maybe apologizing to my family would help
me
. I'd never get answers from them, and I had to move on somehow. I couldn’t carry the guilt anymore.

If my sister and the rest of my family
were
here, I would say I'd done everything in my power to…well, not to cross any lines with Julian. I had failed over and over but kept trying. Nothing worked, and it had gotten to the stage where he was worth everything.

He was more important than the risk of rejection, than the disappointment of my family.

I'm fucking sorry, guys.

I missed them. My vision became blurry, and I leaned forward and pressed the palms of my hands to my eyes.

I'm fucking sorry, but he comes first for me now.

I blew out a breath and rubbed my jaw, glancing over to where Julian was sitting. He was on the other side of the aisle, and I could only see a little bit of his face. I didn't know if he was upset or what he was thinking about.

That worried me more than whether or not my sister would've approved—eventually—of me being with Julian.

I had to believe she would, though. Like Tennyson said, it wouldn’t have been easy. We probably would've argued a lot first, and maybe even had a falling out. But in the end…

It didn't really matter anymore.

I'd always miss our family, but it was time to take the next step. It'd been a long year. Grief, conflict, confusion, internal battles. I was tired of it.

Standing up, I quietly made my way out of the church. There was a sense of letting go; it was cathartic.

It was bizarre how different the atmosphere was right outside the doors. Upbeat tourists taking photos of everything, some having picnics on the steps.

I waited for Julian, and he didn't take very long. He was introspective, so I held back some. We began walking down the hill, not saying anything, and I took the opportunity to look around, imagining more spots my parents probably took photos of. When we got home, I'd have to check the memory chest. Their album would be there.

"Are you okay?" Julian asked, sending me a careful glance.

I said
fuck it
to myself and grabbed his hand, kissing the top of it before I threaded our fingers together. "Yeah. You?"

He nodded and looked down at our hands. "It was somewhat liberating. I got some thinking done."

"That’s good. So did I." I descended another step and turned to him. It made him as tall as me, and I wanted him at eye level for this. "Have dinner with me tonight."

His brow knitted together, and he cocked his head. "Um, well, sure—"

"A date." I stepped closer and cupped his jaw. "I wanna take you out on a date, Julian. You and me."

His mouth formed an "o." He'd really had no idea. It made me feel worse than before.

Considering how little I had actually paid attention to his past, unless it revolved around his education and our family, I didn't know what he'd told himself about how I felt. That he'd only been a good fuck to me?

"What do you say?" I pressed my forehead to his. "Give me a shot?"

He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, but he wasn’t shutting me out. His hands ghosted carefully along my sides. "Are you serious?" he asked quietly. "A date, even if I were to say I didn't want sex at the end of the night?"

Jesus fuck, I was no better than Nicky. Maybe I should blacklist myself from the industry as a punishment, too.

"Yeah. In fact, I'm ruling it out right now," I told him. Not able to help myself, I kissed his nose, then his eyelids. "I want a chance. I've been a dick. I should've been more open to you, too."

He frowned, though his eyes remained closed. "No… You haven't done anything wrong, but I had no idea—"

"Which is kinda fucked," I chuckled, my gut twisting. Shit, I was nervous. That was a first in…ages. "I've been fighting my feelings for you for months." That made his eyes fly open, but I wasn’t done yet. "In retrospect, I should've given you more. It's all obvious in my head, yeah? Even Tennyson's noticed I can't keep my eyes off you. But I haven't told you shit, and I don't know how you've perceived things."

Julian cleared his throat and glanced to the side as a group of tourists passed us on the steps. It wasn't the best place to have this conversation, but whatever.

"I knew the terms," he murmured. "I'm an adult, Noah. You didn't owe me anything. You still don't."

Well, what-the-fuck-ever. We could debate this endlessly.

"Agree to disagree," I said. "But I
want
." I gripped his chin and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Fuck what's owed and not. I wanna do couple shit with you. You have no idea how much."

He let out a soft laugh and covered his face, and I knew incredulousness when I saw it. "God…" He shook his head and let his hands fall again, a wobbly smile in place. "
You
have no idea how much I've fantasized about you wanting more. This is nuts." He grinned crookedly, and I smiled back. "Especially recently—you've been so affectionate with me. That was very rough."

"It's outta my hands." I kissed him quickly to prove it. "I'm a strong motherfucker, but you've got me on my knees, kid. Figuratively speaking." For now, anyway. I wouldn’t mind dropping in a literal way soon. "So is this a yes on the date?"

"I think quoting Ivy when she says
duh
is fair." He smiled softly, eyes closed once more, and slid his hands up my biceps. "This means I won't have to avoid you tomorrow to get another clean break, yes?"

"No more breaks." I slipped my hands down the back pockets of his jeans and gave his ass a squeeze. "No more one-time-only." This time, I kissed him for real. I went deep 'cause I needed it. I tasted him, teased his tongue with my own, and fucking basked in the moment.

Surely, nothing could come between us now. I was done denying, and Julian would open up to me in time, as he grew to trust me and so on. Telling his grandparents wouldn't be easy, but I hoped for the best.

"I've missed this," he sighed into the kiss.

"Me too, baby." I trailed kisses down his jaw, remembering that we were in an extremely public place. "Fuck, me too."

He cursed under his breath. "You know, room service for dinner doesn’t sound bad. Then we wouldn’t have to leave the bed."

I groaned a laugh and stole one more kiss. "Don't fucking tempt me. But no. Indulge me. I want—"